I spent five years courting the woman of my dreams, and finally won her hand.
But after we married, she aborted our child to save the son of the man she had always loved, then secretly gave him all the money I had spent years saving for our baby.
As I trembled with rage, she said with self-righteous indignation:
“I only married you because I felt sorry for you. You're not even as good as a dog, so what gives you the right to tell me what to do?”
Later, in prison, she begged me desperately to save her.
I smiled and said:
“I'm not even as good as a dog. What right do I have to tell you what to do?”
